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When he finally moves, it’s his lips brushing across my cheek. “Tell me what happened with Leo.”
He won’t let this go, and as long as I stay quiet, he won’t let me go.
“He wanted me to stand there, fully dressed, and watch him jerk off.” I strain for sips of air beneath his weight. “Is he an exhibitionist or something?”
“He’s a voyeur. He wanted to watch you, imagine himself inside you, and look into your hypnotic eyes while he came.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Well, I only went along with it because he was explaining the video. Not that something like that can be explained. When he finished, I gave him a hug. That’s when you walked in.”
“A hug?” He wraps his mouth around the word like it’s the first time he’s ever said it.
“Like this.” Cautiously, to avoid spooking the wild animal, I circle my arms around his broad shoulders. Can’t quite reach my fingers together at his back, but once I have a good grip on him, I squeeze.
A shocked exhale hisses past his lips, followed by a deep, guttural vibration in his chest.
I hold him the way I held Leo, but this feels different. Rather than sitting like a statue, he responds to my touch. His breaths shorten. His muscles twitch. A continuous purr of contentment vibrates from his rib cage, and oh, God, his hands are on the move, gliding along my arms and shoulders.
“Stop,” I rasp.
His nose dips to mine, nuzzling with such achingly soft affection it shouldn’t feel sexual. But he can’t help it. The man oozes testosterone, masculinity, and sinful sensuality just by breathing.
He’s too much. Too powerful. Too big. Too hot. Too fucking hard between my legs.
Then, because the universe hates me, he lowers his head and clamps down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder. With his teeth.
Fierce, primal possession.
Lips hot against my skin, he holds me in place with a strong jaw and slides his uninjured hand along my ribs. Tracing each indentation with wandering fingers, and farther down, he seizes my waist in an iron grip and pins me to the bed. Restraining me.
The room fades. Time disintegrates. I’m molten liquid beneath him. A puddle of rapid heartbeats. He breathes against my neck, and I can’t breathe at all, captive in his claiming grip, waiting for the killing blow.
Slowly, his teeth release my neck, and his head lifts. Black eyes capture mine. Then they lower, locking on my mouth.
“Kody,” I whisper. “No.”
He shifts, rolling his hips, driving every hard inch against me. Aggressive, sultry, fluid motion. He shows me what he likes. What he wants.
My mouth parts on a gasp, and he swoops in, taking the kiss I refused him before.
Twisting my neck, I break the connection. “I said no.”
As expected, he doesn’t listen. The instant his lips lock onto mine again, he loses all rational thought. He doesn’t just kiss me. He eats my mouth, stretching it open and licking everywhere inside. No finesse. All hunger and instinct and pumping blood.
Pumping straight to the monster between his legs.
If I don’t do something, I’m going to be more intimate with that monster than I ever hoped to be.
“Kody.” Shoving at his granite jaw, I gulp for air and try to break through his sex-addled brain. “What about Denver? Does he allow this? Is this part of the devil’s bargain?”
“What did you say?” He goes still, fingers digging into my hip.
“Did you make a deal with him? With Denver?”
“Fuck.” He releases a breath that blazes with agitation. Then he kisses me again, quick and furious, and rolls to his back with his hands pressed to his face. “Fuuuuuck!”
Relief expands my chest.
“What does it mean?” I whisper. “The devil’s bargain?”
“Nothing. Don’t mention it again.”
I expected that. The answer to that question holds their biggest secret. They won’t give it up easily, if at all. I’ll have to figure it out myself.
Outside, ice pellets beat against the window, spitting from a paling sky. Is it morning already? Impossible to know for sure. My internal clock broke weeks ago.
He drags his palms down his face, groaning. A sound of pain and raging frustration.
Lying stiffly beside him on the cold bed, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the rafters—it feels awkward. Like those morning walks of shame so long ago.
Then it hits me. Kody’s never experienced a morning-after. He’s never been in a relationship. Not even a hookup that lasts only one night.
He doesn’t kiss like a virgin, but he could be.
At age twenty-five?
“How long has it been,” I ask gently, “since Denver brought a woman here?”
“Five years.”
I’m so shocked that he answers. My jaw hangs open as I try to form a response.
“Don’t.” His growl cuts through me, snapping my mouth closed. “I’ll say nothing more about that.”
Five years. He would’ve been twenty. Who was she?
